Evanesce
by Aegri Somnia Vana
Summary: ONE-SHOT: Black was not a colour. Black was not alive. Black was not subtle. It was not blue or green or red or purple - it was not a colour.


It was an odd day.

Why, you ask?

The birds chirped, the waters of the fountain fell down in sinuous currents, the petals of blue, pink and violets swayed gently.

But it still felt odd to him.

The sky was a wonderful swipe of blue with tufts of white scattered carelessly here and there. The autumn breeze rustled through the russet and tawny leaves hanging helplessly from the branches, waiting for the cold winds to snatch them away from their resting place. The elegant winged creatures flapping about and hopping from one place to another while the larger more magnificent ones soared in the skies, claiming it as their own.

It was the epitome of serenity.

But then he looked closer. The sky was not blue, the petals not vibrant. They were withering, wilting, unable to stand the winds brushing past them. They felt dull and fragile. The sky which stretched as far as his emerald-green eyes could see was not blue, there was a haze above everything, and the white tufts were not white at all… They were dark and black.

Black like the dark subconscious that lurked within him.

Black like dull screaming echoes that wrenched him of everything in those hollow nights.

Black like the stain that was beginning to coat everything leaving nothing behind.

The gentle movement of the petals was not gentle─ it was vulnerable. It was frail and susceptible to the winds that rushed past like howling disasters. They were never diffident in their movements, never showed weakness. They were dominant and loud and like a cleansing fluid robbed them of their beauty─ the petals' embellishing pink, red, yellow and purple beauty, making them monotonous and dry, without any colour, turning them darker and darker until they turned black. Always black.

Black like the slithering hisses amongst the rotten voices.

Black like the intentions behind the controlling strings held by ghastly hands, etching and impaling the weak─ the wretched.

Black like the soundless dreams that shattered to pieces due to their delicate foundations and then decayed… melted into the never-ending black, fading and dying along the way.

There were colours too around him.

His hair shifted to cover his pale skin when he turned his head.

The water was clean and soothing and... _blue._ Not black. It flowed into the concrete pool from the statue's hands in constant streams. It was shifting in between sky-blue and turquoise but then suddenly it was a greenish hue to it, like sea green.

He tilted his head.

Green… The ground it was green, with little blades rising from the ground swaying in the wind. The grass moved slowly, unnaturally when the cruel and pitiless hands of the beautiful and disastrous winds clawed them from their roots, swiping the hand of a thief that stole─ stole vibrancy, liveliness and replaced it with something that was entrenching the foundations of the very opposite.

His strained breath left his cold lips that were blue and cold from the realisation.

Blue.

He looked towards the water again.

Now, it was transparent, none of the colours visible. No sea greens, no turquoises, no sky-blue─

But the sky was not blue. It was never blue. So that meant…

The black began rising from within the transparent surface like ink, melding with the fluid languidly and dangerously. It chased it away… the life, the reality, like it always did, the putrid nature invading brutally and mercilessly.

Slowly, with the viscosity that of tar, the black, utterly black liquid fell down with a remorseless tinge to it.

He gulped to fight down the nervous pang bubbling up in his chest.

On the ground, the dark blades of grass rose, glimmering in the dull light that fell down in black pools, reminding him of pain and agony.

Reminding him, that black was unforgiving and unforgivable.

Reminding him, that black was like a ruthless and purposeful knife targeted to dismember.

Reminding him, that black ate away every colour and left nothing but darkness and… regret.

Black was not a colour. Black was not alive. Black was not subtle. It was not blue, or green or red or purple─ it was not a colour.

Silence, like a painful and horrid torrent of echoless and voiceless words hit him.

His grass-green orbs darted around as his purplish-pink hair gently flowed when the sweet and soothing wind ran through it.

It was an ordinary day.

The melodious voices of the birds that rose high up the skies resonated. The flowers, bright and lively, adorning the land stood out from the sharp blades that like a wonderful coat of green stretched above the faintly visible glow of brown. The faint splash of the blue water felt like the most wonderful melody to him. The winds were like a loving caress against his cheeks, carrying his pain away with them.

It was an ordinary day.

There was nothing odd about it.

Because black was not there.

 _Because black was not a colour._

He looked down at his hands, the pale colour now dull and dim. His eyes strayed to his shirt, the soft purple morphing into something darker. A weird shade surrounded him─ an eerie and haunting aura. His lips were stiff because the blue coating them was there no more. His eyes hurt at the hardening and taut sensation because the green was seeping into something horrifying. It took hold of him, tore through him, ripping him apart leaving nothing but…

He stayed there as he gazed at the colours surrounding him, the coruscating plethora of wondrous paints sweeping everything.

He stayed there.

He stayed there as he faded.

He stayed there as he faded into the enthralling black.

Because black was not a colour.

Black was grotesque and… _dead._

It was a shade, overwhelming and devastating.

* * *

 **A/N** : I don't have a thing against black by the way... you know just saying. Someone might think i do. O_O It is actually one of my favourite colours (again scientifically speaking, it is not a colour *cough*It is the lack of colour... like darkness is the lack of light so it _is_ a shade... um yeah... whatever, this really confuses me sometimes so I have officially given up on shoving black into a category) but it is so intriguing that... well, God knows what Jack will actually say to my perception of the colour/not colour black if he were real.

Again, if this did not make sense. It was not supposed to, haha!

I hope you enjoyed it anyway, sense or no sense. xD


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